Ten Small Soldiers
by derajdragonlord
Summary: Commanders would have no victory without soldiers. Nameless, faceless, they fight, kill, and die in the name of their army. Nobody ever asked if they wanted to. This is their story.


Further.

Just a little bit further.

How long had this battle been going? Forty days, perhaps? No, longer than that now…this was the longest battle Brenner's Wolves had fought thus far, and if everything was smoothly, it would be their last battle. An end to this senseless war over wastelands.

That was what the 15th Unit was hoping, anyway.

Captain Howard led them on fearlessly, in spite of the increasingly tough opposition as they approached the enemy HQ.

"The guys at the front say that Forsythe is grouping up some Anti-Air and Anti-Tank by his HQ. I don't think too much of our chances if we get caught by those, cap." Lieutenant Reed commented as the men kept marching. A group of bikes not far ahead were caught by a battleship's guns and torn to pieces as the men flinched back.

"C'mon, men. We thought we were screwed when they had those rockets parked in the city, behind that plasma, didn't we? But we got friends in high places." Howard said, trying to keep morale up. Some of the men looked up to see Bombers and Dusters guarding the air space above the 15th, and a ragged cheer went up. Off the coast, the enemy battleship ran into a pair of submarines and was blown out of the water.

The enemy had been pushed back further and further by a legion of tanks. The target became visible.

"This is our job, men! That's their last factory, right ahead! If we can take this one, we'll have a foothold right on the bridge!" Howard shouted. The 15th nodded grimly.

Capture duty was never an easy one, particularly when you could see the small legion of enemy weapons starting to take aim at your destination.

"Keep it together, guys. We pull this one off and the big guys can take it from here."

The radio crackled as a battalion of tanks rolled by.

"Don't worry about the enemy guns! We'll cover you while you handle the factory!" The tank captain said. Howard nodded.

"Much obliged! We'll knock it down in no time if you keep their guns off us!"

The journey was delayed by a group of Recon cars coming out of nowhere, guns blazing, but the 15 was saved from taking casualties by a bomber swooping in and turning the ten cars into a gigantic crater. Reed waved to the bomber even if they couldn't see him.

They started to get to work on the factory, aware it'd take two whole days to get it working for them even at full strength. The men started work immediately after marching in, flinching a little as they heard tanks, artillery, and the like battling for the bridge.

If those tanks fell, the 15th didn't have a prayer of holding off Forsythe's last forces. If the 15th lost their opportunity to take the factory, though, that was just the start of the army's worries.

"Any news from the guys up ahead?" Howard asked Reed wearily as they worked on converting the factory.

"Not so good. We got Forsythe bottled up in there tight, but we're losing a tank for every few yards we go. And an anti-tank's in firing position…we're in firing range."

Howard looked around as the others stopped working, hearing Reed's closing statement.

"Should we fall back, Cap?"

"Not an option. If they start cranking units out, they'll catch the guys that went on ahead in a pincer. We're gonna take this place down. There isn't any other way." Howard sighed.

"Reed, break out the emergency stash."

Ten beers were handed out amongst the tired 15th. Howard raised his in a toast.

"We may not all be here tomorrow, so while we're all here, let's drink. Here's to the 15th, and the gritty, unshaven sons of bitches I'm proud as hell to count myself among. If we don't make it through this, then we'll die letting these Lazurian bastards know we were the ones that screwed 'em." Howard popped off the bottlecap and raised the drink again.

"Cheers." He said with a grim smile. The 15th as one man grinned and did the same.

"Cheers."

--

The blast came in the night. Most of the shots missed, but one shell landed, and three men went up in flames before they had time to realize they were dead. Howard and the rest of the 15th were up and on alert.

"Shit! How many did we lose?" Howard demanded.

"Fritz, Nick, and Pat are all dead." Reed reported grimly. "They're trying to take out that anti-tank before it gets in another shot, but we may be in for another round."

"Damn. It's gonna take another day to bring this place down…" Howard looked at the other men.

"Anti-Tanks go down hard. We're likely to get nailed again before this is done. We're on overtime, people!" He shouted, and the 15th got back to work.

There would be time to bury and mourn the three they'd lost if any of them got out of the factory alive.

The factory was soon 70% complete. Howard wiped his brow.

"Reed, the front? Any news on what we're in for?"

"The Anti-Tank that's in range is a stubborn bastard, it's not going down. We're sure to get hit again tomorrow, Cap." Reed reported. "The tanks from the factories behind us are coming to reinforce, and they chewed up and spit out those Anti-Air, but there's a lot of armored guns still pointed in our general direction."

"…" Howard sat back.

"Let's hope there aren't enough left in that unit to take us down." He sighed, lighting a cigarette.

"At least they're keeping most of Forsythe's lackeys off us." Reed said, looking out the window at the explosions across the bridge. His eyes widened as a flash went off.

"Oh, shit…EVERYONE DOWN!"

Several shells crashed through the ceiling, and there were shouts as explosions rocked the floor of the factory. Howard got up.

"Oh, no…" He rushed down to look for survivors, followed by Reed.

Three more had died instantly, rendered unrecognizable by the blast. One of the older soldiers was leaning over a younger one, his back red from shrapnel. Howard rushed over, recognizing the two.

"Tony? Vince? You two still breathing?" He said, helping the wounded Tony off of Vincent. Reed checked the younger soldier.

"You ok, Vince?"

"Bro pushed me out of the way…" Vince said quietly. Tony coughed.

"One of 'em went inside…I'm done for, Cap." He said weakly.

"…" Howard lowered his head.

"You did good, Tony." He said, seeing the man was fading fast. Vince crawled over.

"Bro?" He asked quietly. Tony put his hand on his little brother's head.

"Stick with the Cap and Reed, Vince. I…" Tony coughed a few times, gave a rattling gasp, and grew still.

Howard threw his helmet across the room and shouted in frustration.

"There's nothing for it, Cap. We need to finish this now." Reed said, keeping as calm as he could while Vince stared uncomprehendingly at his brother's corpse.

"Dammit…" Howard picked up his gun. "We can do this today, even with only the three of us left, but…" He looked down at the four dead bodies, and the "but" was forgotten.

"Let's take this factory down. We'll show these bastards what it means to screw with the 15th!"

Vince stood up strongly.

"Yes, sir!" He said, saluting with a flinty look in his eyes.

As the explosions outside grew steadily louder, the last three soldiers spread out, and managed to complete the takeover.

Howard fell to one knee.

"We did it…the factory is ours…"

Reed's radio crackled.

"You did good, 15th! We'll take it from here! You guys fall back!"

"Yes, sir." Howard said wearily. He opened up his box of cigarettes, seeing three left. He handed one to Reed and one to Vince.

They didn't say anything as the cigarettes were lit.

"…For the ones that can't go home with us." Howard said quietly after a moment.

"Amen."


End file.
